The Seven Year Itch
by YouWreckMe
Summary: Spock is beginning to feel the onset of "pon farr" the Vulcan mating urge as their first mission begins. Kirk tries to figure him out, but it takes a team to come up with a solution. Not slashy, complete. Rated for language, some implied sexuality.
1. The Sex Talk

The Seven Year Itch

Author's notes: I haven't written fan fiction in years. I used to have another screen name on here, but I forgot (and ceased using) the email account and the password, so I will leave that screen name entombed forever somewhere on this website… mostly because it is nearing a decade since some of it was written, and I would rather it be forgotten.

--

Poised in silence, Spock meditates in his quarters. Having been recently troubled with emotional problems, he has increased greatly the time that he spends on this quiet reflection period, teaching himself to bury his human conditions. Computer-simulated candlelight flickers around his black-clad frame, and he sways ever so slightly back and forth, pushed by the activity within his mind.

Soft noises slip unconsciously from his throat, akin to human noises during the sleep phase. Normally, this would be unacceptable for a Vulcan, but tonight, there is more on his mind than his usual attempts to suppress overflowing emotion. He almost feels as though there were maggots and bugs crawling beneath his skin, swimming in his veins, biting at the insides of his flesh, burrowing in his bones.

He remembers vividly the days of his youth on Vulcan, living a childhood mostly within logical parameters. However, as with Earth children, there are plenty of illogical events that occur when a Vulcan child grows up, and _pon farr_ is one of those events that few can ever seem to overcome.

The "sex talk" is even worse for Vulcans than it is for Humans. On Earth, it is a sort of rite of passage that everyone goes through, everyone relates to, and everyone regards with at least some humor. This is unfortunately not true of Vulcans. Were it not for the painful embarrassment that still causes his cheeks to flood with a greenish tinge, he might be able to smirk at his memory of Amanda explaining to him.

For Sarek, _pon farr_ was something that just could not be talked about. He was far too uncomfortable, and rather than feel embarrassment, shame, or fear, he thought it best to ignore it, only explaining it to his son as "logical duties" to the race. Secretly, he enjoyed it as did his sexually-liberated human wife, but that was in private only, and it would never be something to be discussed with his son. He noted the embarrassment and general sickness that would threaten to overcome him whenever he thought of his own parents having "the talk" with young Sarek.

Amanda, however, was not going to allow her son to grow up without the sex talk. She wanted him to understand sexuality, be it human or Vulcan. The last thing she wanted was for a young Spock to be experiencing the intense sexual urges of _pon farr_ and not know what was happening to him. She also didn't want him attempting to mate with one whom he was in love, or at the very least, bonded.

"_Spock, my son… Please come here, darling." She called to the upper level, her warm smile and inviting arms beckoning the boy over. His eyes were wide with a tepid fear—he was slowly becoming more Vulcan by the day, and so he was not as fearful as he was this time last year._

"_Yes, mother?" Spock is all of about 10 years old; still a boy, but quickly approaching manhood and thus, pon farr. "I was practicing my meditation."_

"_I know, darling, but since your father has just left, I felt it would be proper to speak to you now." She squeezed his shoulder and pulled him close to her, kissing his dark scalp. He could not see, but he could feel her shake a little bit._

"_Mother, what is wrong?" He asked, becoming more fearful and less controlled. "Are you ill? Shall I call Father for help?" He backed away, headed for a communicator._

"_No, no, my dear. We need to have a talk, and I must admit, I am a little bit nervous, as I've only been through this type of thing once or perhaps twice before." She smiled nervously and led him over to a pleasant sofa._

"_What kind of talk?" He ventured, trying to hide his own nervousness. He suspected and theorized what it could be, perhaps something to do with a recent suicide a few blocks away. He wondered if children of other planets had trepidation at the thought of a close talk with their parents._

"_You may have noticed or experienced some strange… behaviors… lately, and I want to explain to you what is happening." Her warm smile had turned into a worried frown._

"_Mother, if this is about T'lure having taken his own life, I assure you that I have no desire to do as such. In fact…" He said, attempting to stop her embarrassment and fear._

"_No, no, no, honey… you didn't want to… did you?" She eyed him curiously, and he looked rather puzzled. "No, honey, I want to talk about sex."_

"_Mother, I already understand the concept of sexual intercourse." The sight of a ten-year-old boy using that phrase was comical, but Amanda could not allow herself to laugh. Sex was not something she wanted her son to be embarrassed about; she wanted him to find a mate and have a healthy sex life._

"_Not just sex, my son. Pon Farr."_

"_Pon farr… the mating urge." He mumbled, realizing that he was caught in an awkward trap._

"_It's nothing to be ashamed of… You will have an intense desire to mate with someone, and should you find a th'y'la… a lover… then you will very strongly wish to have a child with her. You were designed this way, it is perfectly natural."_

"_But I am too young to raise a child!" He squeaked, eyes welling up with tears._

BANG!

Spock was startled from his memory, though it was not entirely unwelcome to be ripped from the embarrassment he felt. His eyelids parted, revealing a hint of annoyance within the brown-black orbs.

BANG! BANG!

"Spock? Can I come in?" Kirk was banging on the door.

"Enter." Spock wanted to sigh, but he controlled it very well, and attempted to return to his previous state.

The door slid open, revealing a dressed-down Kirk. Unlike Spock's tasteful, Federation-issue black sleep clothes, Kirk wore a black tank top with holes appearing below his underarm area, and neon yellow pants with some juvenile cartoon character on it. "Hey, uh… I was just going through doing some important paperwork…" Kirk greeted, flushed with a bit of embarrassment. "I heard you were requesting your vacation time, and I was wondering why. We've only been on this mission for a couple of days…"

Spock let out a breath of air, not quite as loud as a sigh, but noticeable. "Noting your flustered mannerisms, I sense that you already know the answer to your own question."

"Uh, yeah… Soooooooo…" The blond man trailed, trying to come up with the proper words, trying to avoid the hard staring eyes of his First Officer. "How exactly does pon farr work? Is it like a sex thing, or…"

Spock blinked away the annoyance, and tried to focus all his energy on not blushing green himself. "Captain?"

"When Vulcans go through _pon farr_, do you like… want it all the time, or…"

"It seems that you are mistaking constant sexual desire for the physical urge to mate and produce a child." Spock said, the slightest hint of annoyance present in his voice. Kirk looked at him sheepishly with a blank expression.

Before he could say anything, however, Spock continued his explanation. "Every seven years, from the onset of adulthood, Vulcan males and bonded females go through _pon farr_—the mating drive of our race. Very obviously, it is the driving force behind the continuation of our population." Kirk nodded, seeming a bit disappointed in the boring answer. Spock sighed again. "It's not an enjoyable experience, Jim."

"Why is it not enjoyable? Is sex not fun on your planet?" Kirk was highly confused, and he stepped around Spock, his eyes roaming the room as he spoke. "Does _pon farr_ happen because Vulcans don't like having sex?" He turned back, the cocky confidence returning to his face as he lifted an eyebrow and smirked.

Spock felt the tables being turned, and he flushed a little bit more. "I didn't say that. I said that _pon farr _was not an enjoyable experience. Sex…" His thoughts flashed briefly to Uhura during his pause. "Sexual relations are highly pleasurable for the Vulcan race, and it is one of few things that Vulcans permit themselves to enjoy, albeit very, _very_ privately."

"Oh… My… God…" Kirk's small smirk blossomed into a full-on grin. "You're embarrassed by it, aren't you? Tell me, are Vulcans ashamed of it, or just a select few of you?

"You know, Jim… _Captain_… Not all of us are proud of sexual promiscuity." Spock attempted to usher him to the door by stepping closer into Kirk's comfort zone.

"Not all of us are ashamed of enjoying ourselves and our partners." Kirk backed towards the door.

"Very well, Jim, why don't you return to your quarters and _enjoy yourself_ then?" Spock turned the tables back with the slightest upturn of his mouth and a single eyebrow lifted. With a gentle shove, he pushed Kirk into the corridor, smirking to himself as he did so. With a characteristic _whoosh_, the door shut and locked behind him.

The young blond Captain started to walk away to his own quarters before he paused.

'_Wait a minute…'_ Kirk thought with a puzzled expression. _'Did he just tell me to go fuck myself?' _


	2. Let's Get Through This

Chapter 2:

More notes: Thanks for the reviews. I might not always update this fast, but I felt the need to write this morning and see where else this story can go. I appreciate your attention, and I'll try to keep this thing as updated as possible until I've finished. On with the story, then.

..

…

..

Spock allowed the door to shut and then locked it. He overrode the system and changed his lock code; he would later inform Nyota of the change so that she may enter if she wished. He returned to his position on a brown mat on the floor and, despite the feeling that his skin was crawling, again began to meditate.

Kirk, however, continued on his way down the hall. "That sly bastard…" He muttered, smiling at the insult, but not entirely happy that he couldn't retort. He was turning it over in his head, feeling only slightly guilty for having brought up such an embarrassing subject when he was not yet close enough of a friend. He walked past his own quarters, turned a corner, and arrived at his destination. He glanced at his watch, hoping that it wasn't too late by now, and knocked at the door, much softer than he did for Spock.

"Come on, come on, this is important…" He whined a bit to himself, knocking again when no answer was heard. The door opened and revealed a very annoyed woman, wearing a soft, black nightgown that revealed quite a bit of her cleavage as well as her more treasured asset, her long legs. "Good evening, Lieutenant…" He smiled, reveling in the sight of her body. He jumped back a little bit when he noticed the greenish night cream on her face.

"May I help you, _Captain_?" She hissed the last part. "Need I remind you, it's late, and we have a lot of work to do on the first shift?"

"I know, I know." He nodded. "May I come in, please? This is kind of… private… and the whole ship doesn't need to be privy to this information." He smiled, trying to look as sweet and innocent as possible because he was quite sure that Uhura would hurt him in a way that would exceed the ass-kickings doled out at the bar in Iowa, by Spock on the bridge, and by each and every Romulan he encountered. The difference is that he actually fears Uhura, whereas he could care less about Romulans and the goons of Starfleet.

Uhura moved to the side, inviting him in. Her hair was tied up in a simple ponytail, and she wore raspberry-colored flip-flop slippers. She sat down at the vanity in her quarters, and resumed wiping the night-mask off of her face. "Is there a reason you're here, or are you trying to get into my bed?"

"You're spoken for, and despite popular belief, I don't play that game. I wouldn't—I can't—do that to Spock, especially considering all that he has been through." Kirk straightened his posture, and despite his ridiculous pajamas, he looked rather regal and sincere.

"Right. Sorry." She said, quietly, not taking her eyes off the vanity.

"Anyways… Do you know what's going on with Spock?" He asked, looking at her reflection in the mirror. "He seems out of his element."

Uhura looked up, rubbing the towel down her face and removing the last of the cucumber-mint face cream. She paused, looking at Kirk's reflection in her mirror. "No, I don't know entirely what it is, but…" She stopped, turning around to face the young Captain. "He won't tell me, he doesn't want to talk about it. It's like he's sick, or somehow ashamed of himself, and he's hiding from us all."

"Are you familiar with the concept of _pon farr_ at all, my dear?" Kirk asked, trying to avert her concerned eyes.

She blinked, staring at him for a moment, and then snapped her gaze away from his. "Not exactly. I know it means 'mating drive' but that is about it." She stopped, looking back up at him with an expression of awkward concern for Spock. "The textbooks and lessons… Spock and the other professors never explained the full meaning behind those words." She trailed off, trying desperately to remember the lessons at the Academy.

"Well, Uhura, who has no first name…" He flirted to bring her out of her trance. "I talked to our pointy-eared mutual acquaintance, and it seems that he is indeed going through the stages of _pon farr_." He paused, the smirk falling off his face. "However, I haven't a damn clue what it is, other than the urge to mate."

Uhura suddenly glared at him. "You talked to him, didn't you?" She crossed her arms, rolling her eyes in anger. "You just had to know, didn't you?"

"Well, yes… its three days into the mission, and he's already taking his vacation time for this year!" He raised his voice in argument, hoping to startle her into submission. "Doesn't him… Don't you two want to have some 'you time' for yourselves?"

Uhura considered this. "Look, Jim… You go back to your quarters for the night, and I'm going to go talk to him and see if I can undo what you may have done." She stepped past him, grabbing him by the chest of his tank top and pulling him out the door behind her. Once out of her quarters, she let go of him, bid him a sharp goodnight, and stepped down the corridor to Spock's door.

Kirk, on the other hand, went in the opposite direction of his quarters. Tiredness be damned, he was going to solve this one tonight.

-

Uhura knocked softly on Spock's door, quietly calling his name. She put in the lock code, but it was not working. She looked down, dejected, and about to cry. The door slid open, revealing Spock staring intently at the candlelight simulations.

"Spock…" She whispered, stepping quickly over to him and sitting next to him. "What's wrong? Jim…"

"Jim has needlessly worried you, Nyota." He opened his eyes to see that her arms looped around one of his. She leaned forward and kissed his shoulder, the spot becoming so hot that Spock felt as though he'd been branded there. "I am, as you might say, fine." He turned slightly to face her.

"But you're not!" She said. "You're not yourself lately, you've been meditating more than usual, you're tense all the time…" And she paused, eyes becoming wet, "You seem like you're mad at me, and you're trying to push me away." She looked down, trying not to upset him by crying.

"Ny… Nyota… I…" He stammered, not at all comfortable with his lack of words. He got up on his knees and enveloped her with his arms. "There is nothing… nothing you have done that could possibly have made me mad at you." He kissed her, lightly, like she had kissed him in the transporter room the day that his planet had been destroyed. He felt it appropriate, and considering what he was going through, he definitely did not want a deeper kiss at this point.

"Then what is wrong with you?" She said, her voice on the verge of cracking, her eyes pleading with him to tell her the truth. "What is _pon farr_? And don't you dare give me a linguistics lesson!" Even in her concern, Spock thought she was amusing in her demand. He liked that about her, and had secretly hoped that she would demand the change from the Farragut to the Enterprise.

He let out a sigh and bowed his head for a moment. He had no choice but to have the sex talk with his girlfriend. Wonderful. _'Thanks, mother.'_ He thought. _'This must have been quite difficult for you.'_

…..

Meanwhile, Kirk had continued past his own quarters and down the corridors towards the residence halls of the sickbay. If there was one person who would know about this whole _pon farr_ mess, then it would have to be Bones. He did make a mental note that he could indeed communicate with the elder Spock in the case that Bones didn't know.

He enjoys the elder Spock more than the younger; there's nothing hidden below his surface. Spock the elder is a nicer, kinder Vulcan who is unafraid of sharing feelings and giving answers when necessary. What was it going to take in order to turn young Spock into old Spock in this respect? He already knew what it took to drive him into an intense rage, but what would it take to have him smile, or cry, or laugh?

He wasn't so sure that the elder Spock might like talking about sex. However, if that's what it took to get younger Spock back to himself, then so be it. He had been in fights everywhere from Iowa to San Fran, to outer-frickin-space, dammit. Jim Kirk was not going to shy away from this one.

He reached the sickbay quarters and stopped before the door labeled "Dr. McCoy." He pushed the buzzer to indicate a medical emergency to the resident inside. Within seconds, a scrubs-clad Bones emerged from the door and bumped into Kirk, knocking him over. He was throwing on a white coat over top of his scrubs as he ran.

"Bones! Bones, wait! There's no emergency!" Kirk jumped to his feet and ran after the dark-haired Doctor. "I just pushed the buzzer because **I **have an emergency!" He shouted, stopping the Doctor in his tracks.

"Kirk, you obnoxious bastard." The sleep-deprived Bones turned on his heels and stomped forward to Kirk, murder in his eyes. "Why, what could be so _possibly_ important that you would do something so egregious as to ring the "MEDICAL EMERGENCY" buzzer?" He removed the white coat.

"Something's wrong with Spock." Kirk blurted.

"So, what else is new?" Bones countered, crossing his arms and glaring at Kirk. "Dammit, Jim! I'm a doctor, not a psychiatrist!"

"Please, let me into your quarters and we can talk about this." Kirk pleaded, blue eyes searching for any slight bit of concern in Bones' face. "Something's wrong with him and we need your medical expertise."

"Oh, alright!" Bones growled, pushing the button and allowing himself and his companion into the sleeping quarters. "What do you want, Jim?" He sighed, tossing the coat across a table and lying down on his bed.

"What do you know about the Vulcan phase of _pon farr_?"

"It's… complicated." Bones said, mulling it over in his head. "It can be mostly harmless, however, should he not mate with someone, he has three other options: one, he can meditate it away, but it could take the entire cycle, which could be somewhere from one to three weeks, to stop his desires from overtaking him. Two, he could undergo some extreme shock—something must scare him and that fear must overtake him—or three, violence. A nice, strong violent fight ought to put a stop to it."

"What happens if none of those things happen?" Kirk asked, narrowing his eyes in thought, catching McCoy's eyes in the process.

"Why? He hasn't gone into _plak tow_, the blood fever, yet, has he?"

"I'm not sure…" Kirk mumbled. "He doesn't seem like it."

"Because if he has, he's most likely gonna die, Jim."


	3. Doctor, Doctor

**Author's Notes:** Thanks for the positive reviews, I truly do appreciate them. This is a longer update, they seem to be getting longer as I go. I might not be able to update again for a little while (a day or so, possibly more because of work and the holiday weekend and whatnot) but I will keep this story going, I promise.

Chapter 3:

"… die?" Kirk repeated almost in a whisper. He hadn't ever been this fearful of someone dying, except for his mother. "N-no, it's just sex, right?"

"No, this isn't just a sex thing, Jim." Bones stated gravely, sitting up in his bed. "If he doesn't mate, fight, or get scared, then he will develop the blood fever, and it will kill him. This happens every seven years, and this is either the first or if he's a late-bloomer, maybe the second time that he's ever gone through this."

"Do you think he knows how to deal with it?" Kirk asked with more concern in his voice than he'd ever had.

"I don't know. Given that Vulcans are extremely touchy on the subject of emotions and feelings, and even touchier on the subject of sex, I doubt if Spock's ever known anything beyond the basics… I can't imagine that his father would ever say anything to him about it." Bones yawned loudly. "I doubt he's gone into blood fever, because he _logically_ would've sought medical attention, but I want him in Sickbay first thing tomorrow morning. That better be your order, Jim."

Kirk nodded. "Sure thing, Bones." He bid the Doctor goodnight, and slinked out into the hall. This was far more serious than he knew, and he immediately regretted trivializing it when he talked with Spock. Perhaps an apology was in order. He passed by Spock's room, considering knocking, but he thought he heard Uhura still inside talking to him. Maybe she was doing something about it—perhaps he would mate and then _pon farr_ would be over, and everything would be hunky dory again.

"It's probably not that simple. Of course not, nothing Vulcans do is that simple." Kirk stated to himself, finally reaching his own door and stepping inside.

---

Spock and Uhura were still sitting next to each other on Spock's meditation mat. She had her arm around him, basking in his warmth. "So, I must find a mate and engage in mating activity, meditate this condition away…"

"Or get scared or fight." Uhura finished Spock's sentence. "What happens if you don't do any of those things?"

"Then I will go into _plak tow_- blood fever—and I will die." He stated, frankly and unapologetically. He stroked down her back, something that he had learned that she enjoyed, hoping to quell the fear that he knew must certainly be making its way through her central nervous system.

"Oh. I'm sorry." She felt bad—she had wanted sex to the point of _needing_ it before, but her life didn't depend on it. She was genuinely worried for him, but their relationship was still very new, by both sets of standards.

"Nyota, I'll be fine. I just need the time off allotted to me, and I will be able to meditate this away. I did it for my first experience with _pon farr_." He thought back to his awkward teenage years—everyone has them, but he, being half-human, was twice as awkward as a full Vulcan teenager. He chose not to dwell in these thoughts for very long, as he wished to take in more of Uhura's scent and touch while he could still control himself. Quickly approaching, he knew, was a time where he must absolutely be locked away from her, lest the mating urge completely take over his self-control.

"Well, I'll see if I can talk to Jim about it. He's… he's really concerned about your well-being." She said, reaching up and running her hand across his head, to the pointed tips of his ears. She wasn't helping his condition any, but he wasn't about to tell her to stop, as he was determined to allow her to be the only person that could "get to him" as humans liked to say.

"When he interrupted my meditation shortly before you did, he seemed oddly curious as to what the effects were. He did not appear to be very concerned, however…" Spock's mouth turned up into a slight smirk. "He did seem quite embarrassed to be talking to me about sexual behaviors."

"Yeah, well, you're a guy. Not only that, you're a guy who doesn't come off as…" Uhura smiled and pinched gently at the point of his ear. "… a particularly sexual individual." She purred.

"Ny-ota…" Spock whispered, feeling his hormone levels rising off the charts. "Please, you cannot do this to me right now…"

"Why not?" She grinned mischievously. "You're obviously enjoying this, as am I…" She leaned up and kissed his ear, kissing down to the lobe, along his jaw line, on his chin, but then she shied away from his lips, preferring instead to deny him the pleasure of a true kiss by placing her final kiss on his cheek. Spock practically shook with disappointment.

"I am not accustomed to the concept of human pranks, Nyota." He whispered, catching her hands. "But, if this is indeed a prank, I find it to be rather pleasurable to be the victim of such a prank. Is that not the opposite intended effect of a prank?" He was making a joke, though he knew that humans refer to it as flirting. She smiled at him, and her smile faded after a few moments. "What is wrong?" He asked, reaching out and clasping her hand.

"I wish you'd be more direct like that more often."

"Nyota?" He asked, tilting his head slightly, as if he didn't quite understand.

"I mean… You just told me that you find my actions pleasurable… I wish you'd just admit that to me more often, and perhaps express these feelings more openly to your fellow crew members." She was referring to Kirk, of course, but it wouldn't hurt for him to open up a tad more to the others as well. Chekov was afraid of him. McCoy had half-jokingly asked her one day if she had ever managed to get that stick dislodged from his rear. She knew it was difficult, but they took it one day at a time.

Spock sat silently for a few moments, taking it in. "Nyota… I feel comfortable enough with you to tell you these things. Granted, we've not been together for as long as seems customary to share such deep emotions, but…" He trailed off, trying to think of softer words. "I love you as I've never loved anyone before."

_Even my mother._ He thought to himself. "This is why you and I must part company until I am through my cycle of pon farr. I don't want my condition to hurt you."

Uhura nodded, and stood up with him. "Okay, I'll give you your privacy, Spock." She wrapped her arms around his torso, feeling his ribcage through the fabric of his pajamas. "But I promise I'm here for you whenever you may need me." With that, she leaned up and planted a deep, pleasant kiss on Spock's neglected lips.

--

"Good morning, First Officer Spock." Kirk greeted with a nod as the Vulcan entered the bridge. An untrained eye could barely tell, but the Vulcan was yawning behind his stiff posture, a sign that he, too, had been awake for longer than necessary.

"Good morning, Captain Kirk." The stoic Vulcan nodded, his hands placed behind his back, as was his custom.

"I need to speak to you in private, please." He motioned him into the quiet lounge off towards the back of the room. The Vulcan nearly rolled his eyes, but did so mentally. This was going to be another clumsy attempt by Kirk to extract information from Spock.

"I really don't want to talk about this, Jim." Spock's tone was angered, though his voice did not raise.

"There's nothing for you and I to talk about. I understand that it is a private affair for you, and I no longer wish to intrude." Kirk paused, tilted his head, and continued. "However, if you'd like to talk about it, you are certainly welcome to it."

"I thank you, but that is unnecessary." Spock went to turn around and exit the lounge and begin the day's work.

"This is true, but as this is both a psychological and a medical condition, you are to go to Sickbay and consult with Dr. McCoy."

"But, Captain, I am in perfectly fine physical order, and so long as you grant me my request for time off, then I shall return to your service within a short amount of time, refreshed and ready to engage in my work once again, Sir." Spock protested, and he attempted to outfox his Captain, but he knew that Kirk was, as humans referred to him, a 'stubborn ass.'

"That's an order, Spock." Kirk placed a hand on Spock's shoulder. "I don't want you to get _plak tow_ and die. I need you to be here." He smiled. "You're not just a vital part of this crew, with incredibly valuable intelligence and education." He paused, looking directly into the Vulcan's dark, hard eyes. "You're my friend, and I care enough about you to not let you do this by yourself."

The Vulcan nodded with a raised eyebrow. "Thank you for your concern, Jim. I will follow orders, but I would like to express my displeasure with your order."

"Duly noted. Bones is waiting for you. You are relieved for your appointment." Kirk smiled again and exited onto the bridge.

Uhura watched silently, her eyes smiling at Spock as he headed to the transporter. He nodded at her gaze, and then exited the bridge. She turned her eyes to Kirk with an expression that told him to stay the hell away from her if he knew what was good for him.

Kirk walked over and said into her ear, "I sent him down to sickbay to talk to Bones. He has some ideas on what to do." He patted her shoulder gently, nodding to her, and headed to the chair. It didn't make her any happier, but she silently agreed that it was the right course of action for Spock to take.

"So, my talented crew, what's up for today?" Kirk plopped himself down and put one leg up.

--

"Greetings, Doctor McCoy." Spock entered, saluting the ship's medical officer. "It seems I've been sent to consult with you regarding my condition."

"Yes. Jim is quite concerned about you, and once he learned that it was more than just a good-time sex thing, that it could result in your untimely death, he realized just how serious it is." Bones motioned to the examining table. "Please, have a seat while I scan your vitals."

"It is illogical to assume that I cannot overcome it. In fact, I have done so once before." Spock gracefully sat atop a medical exam table, ignoring the beeping and buzzing of the scanners.

"How old were you, if you don't mind my asking?" Bones paused. "I'd like this for medical records, not just for personal knowledge."

"I was halfway past the fifteenth anniversary of the day of my birth." Spock said.

"That sounds about right." The doctor mumbled, making a note on his charts.

"Doctor?" Spock was confused. "What do you mean by, 'about right'?"

"Well, from my own studies at Starfleet Academy and my time before that in medical school, I had a few Vulcan patients." He said, putting an old-fashioned blood pressure cuff onto Spock's arm. "I prefer to do some things the old fashioned way. You can't always trust technology." He explained. "Anyways. My Vulcan patients had an average age of 14-17 years when their first _pon farr_ cycle occurred. You, my pointy-eared friend, are perfectly average."

Spock wasn't sure if that was a compliment, an insult, or a joke. He didn't seem to care, as he knew McCoy's personality, and found him to be an exceptionally careful and attentive doctor.

"Your blood pressure and heart rate are both elevated." Bones stated, but quickly continued. "Not to worry, as you're probably aware, it is the first, most common symptom… What symptoms are you experiencing?"

Spock was not entirely comfortable with this and he pursed his lips together as though they'd been sewn shut.

"Dammit, man! I'm a doctor, not a mind-reader!" Bones raised his voice, trying some attempt at humor. "I'm not going to use this against you; doctor-patient confidentiality and all."

"I take it you will tell Jim." Spock inferred. "After all, he is our Captain and responsible for the well-being of his crew."

"I will have to talk to him about it, but I'm not going to go into great detail. I will tell him only what is absolutely necessary, and nothing more."

Spock paused, but shakily continued. "I began feeling the symptoms at the beginning of last week." He stopped, realizing that last week, he wasn't yet assigned to this mission. "I wanted very badly to be on this ship, so I didn't tell anyone about my condition. I began to feel deep emotions running within…"

"What kind of emotions…?" Bones was taking some notes.

"Forgive me, but I do not appear to be very emotional at all, but as you must know from your studies, emotions run deep within the Vulcan race… I have a picture of Lieutenant Uhura from the Graduation photo shoot." Spock thought of the graduation ceremony that had been cancelled due to the tragic events that had destroyed most of Starfleet's brightest upperclassmen. That had not stricken him so much as the fact that he had assigned her to the Farragut, and thus, to her death had she not intervened. However, this was not the reason for his emotional outburst.

"May I?" Spock reached out his hand and placed it to McCoy's temple. The mind meld began, and instantly, Bones felt anger and resentment for having to deal with such an embarrassing mating drive. This was far worse than human puberty—this wasn't like having a permanent erection from junior high school through senior year. This wasn't having a constant desire for sex—sex was pleasurable. This was an overwhelming _need _to mate with someone, preferably Vulcan, but also with Uhura. He could feel Spock's thoughts of his first _pon farr_, when he felt the overwhelming need to mate with _anyone_ willing, female, male, human, Vulcan, Klingon, Romulan, Andorian... He felt Spock's desperation to be through this, his crushing need to meditate his way through it. He was overcome with fear when Spock thought of what might happen should he not be successful. He was ashamed of what Uhura might think of him after this is all over. Bones felt Spock's tears when the Vulcan considered that Uhura might not want to deal with this behavior every seven years. When it was over, McCoy's eyes flooded with tears and he sobbed in anger, and stumbled around, unsure of how to deal with the emotions that were not even his.

"Emotions transfer exceptionally well during the course of a mind meld, Doctor. I apologize for how you feel, but you now have a much greater understanding of my emotional state during this time."

"Gah, 'greater'… Yeah… right…" Bones snorted and blinked. "God, man, how do you Vulcans deal with that?" Bones wiped the tears from his face and resumed his previous position. The two sat in an uncomfortable, yet understanding silence. "Now, as I understand it, there are four possible options to your successful survival of _pon farr_, am I right, Spock?"

"Yes, and—"

"BOOOOO!" Kirk jumped out from behind the door. Bones jumped and fell off of his chair and onto the floor.

"_JESUS_, Jim… Don't do that to me, you're gonna give me a coronary!" He shouted, grunting as he pushed himself back upright.

Spock, however, remained perfectly still. "I am afraid that it does not work like that, Jim." He smirked ever-so-slightly. "I appreciate the sentiment, but that is not the type of fear necessary." In fact, since Spock has met Jim Kirk, he has known to expect the unexpected, and wasn't surprised in the slightest to see and hear him jump out of nowhere.

"Sorry." The Captain blushed. "I tried."

'_We have a better chance of getting Spock to flash a wide, toothy grin while line dancing naked on the front lawn of the Academy than we do of making him feel fear.' _Kirk halfheartedly grinned to himself, picturing the sight, as he walked sheepishly away. _'That just means that we need to move on to plans C and D.'_


	4. A Logical Conclusion or Logic Schmogic

Chapter 4:

Uhura stepped into the Sick Bay. "Doctor McCoy? May I have a word with you?" She asked.

"That depends—is the word 'whiskey'?" He asked, checking a patient's chart.

She shot him a look that might have sent shivers down his spine, were it not for the fact that he was too busy with his notes. "Is Spock going to be okay? He explained it to me… but…"

"Spock should be fine. There are solutions. I…" Bones looked at the door, "Have a seat, and I can explain them a bit better."

"Thank you, Dr. McCoy." Uhura smiled warmly at him as he led her to his office area.

"Now, this goes against some of the doctor-patient confidentiality, but you…" Bones allowed his face to form a small smile. "You've gotten the closest to him of any of us. You're good for him."

--

Spock walked back up to the Bridge. "Captain, may I have permission to speak to you regarding some personal matters?" His skin had flushed green, and he had an ever-so-slight shaky movement when he stood still.

"Permission granted, my good friend." Kirk led him into a private room off of the bridge, as he preferred not to discuss personal matters—at least, the most embarrassing ones—in public.

"Jim, I do require the vacation time allotted to me if I am to overcome my burden. Indeed, I realize that I will not be receiving any more personal time off for the next full year." Spock paused, his eyes trailing from Kirk's. "That is one sacrifice that I must make." He smirked slightly, trying to alleviate some of his Captain's apprehension.

'_He acts as though the loss of my personal vacation days is really something that upsets me.'_ Spock thought to himself. _'As it stands, my personal and social lives do not warrant such lengths of time to myself.' _The last thought felt like a stab to his heart, but this time, he wasn't entirely sure whether or not it was the emotional upheaval caused by _pon farr_ or whether it was the normal emotion that he'd convinced himself that he was devoid of.

Kirk sighed, but Spock's shakiness and green tinge did not go unnoticed. He saw the desperation, he had heard what Bones said, and he'd read the report. He knew there was no other way. He placed a hand on Spock's shoulder, which ignited a practical feeding frenzy for the creatures that the Vulcan seemed to feel were living in his own skin. Physical contact with any being, human or otherwise, was becoming difficult to bear. "Vacation granted," He smiled sincerely. "But I'll pull some strings and see if I can make it a medical leave instead."

"Thank you, Sir." Spock nodded at his Captain, grateful that his request had finally been approved. "And Jim? I apologize that your attempts instill fear within me earlier did not work as you had intended." Kirk blushed a little bit, feeling embarrassed that he did such a stupid thing. "The kind of fear that is required is something much deeper than the sudden scare that you had considered."

'…_like making me believe that another whom I love has died.' _He retreated to the transporter, headed for the residence deck, ready to set into his meditation once again. As he was walking, he wondered why his mother's death hadn't stopped _pon farr_ from happening. _'Perhaps it is because I had to overcome the circumstances and grieve for her rather quickly if I were to confront Nero. Perhaps Nero's death was the culmination of my grief for Mother.'_

Kirk watched his First Officer go—he had been tremendously foolish in thinking that he could jump out and scare Spock. Spock feared very little, it seemed. He knew Spock had to be fearful, but of what, no one could figure out. Spock felt anger, hatred, and love, but no one knew if he felt fear or not.

'_He's got to be afraid of death.' _Kirk thought. _'Why else would he be so desperate to both meditate for days on end with no interpersonal contact?'_

Kirk turned to head back to the Bridge to make his rounds. _'Unless he's afraid of us—his friends, his fellow crew members—seeing him in such a vulnerable state. He's suffering, he's sick, he's in a rather embarrassing situation…' _Kirk stopped in his tracks.

"He doesn't want us to watch him suffer in vulnerability. He would rather have us see him as the calm, cool, collected individual that he tries so hard to be." Kirk grinned; this would make his plans far easier to execute. He put Chekov on notice that he was in charge for the remainder of the day, but to call him if there was an emergency. This was going to be like the good old days.

--

Uhura had requested the rest of the day for a personal day. She had discussed it with Bones, and she had figured out exactly how to solve the problem. It had amazed her that Spock hadn't considered her possible solution before this; after all, being scientific-minded and logically-inclined should have led him to draw the conclusion long before she did.

'_I love that pointy-eared ball of logic, but like many men, he can be so clueless.' _She thought, grinning as she stepped into her quarters. She had to find her nicest dress; the one with the low-cut halter top, and the high-rise skirt. She dug through her drawers, trying to find her last remaining, nearly empty bottle of the perfume that he loved on her.

'_Not that he's going to give a damn in the physical and emotional state he's in.'_ she thought, but she wanted this to be as proper and romantic as possible. She clasped on the necklace with a charm made of small gems native to Vulcan; he had given it to her after Nero had destroyed his home planet.

'_You will always be part of 'home' for me, Nyota.' _He had said to her, and she smiled at her memory. _'And I will be there for you, always.' _She thought in response to her memory. She checked herself in the mirror, tying up her hair into a messy, yet sophisticated bun. She would break a few hearts on her way to Spock's quarters. She checked her reflection in the mirror one last time and made her way down the hall.

--

"Spock, you sonuvabitch!" Kirk yelled, banging on his door. "Get your skinny, uptight _ass_ out of your bed and get out here _RIGHT NOW_!" He shouted.

The Vulcan inside turned an even deeper shade of green, but he was starting to see red. He couldn't take this anymore. He stood up, growled, and stormed over to the door, which slid open. "Captain, I must ask you to leave at once. I am in no state to be bullied right now, and I am now taking my personal time, which you yourself granted to me."

"No! You're unfeeling, you're unemotional. You're full of crap." Kirk said. "Do you want to know what _I_ think about this whole _pon farr_ thing?" He looked at Spock through narrowed blue eyes.

"No, not particularly, but I suspect that you will naturally ignore such a response and tell me, regardless." Spock shook, and behind his back, his fists were clenched, attempting desperately not to reach up and choke the life out of Jim Kirk.

"I think that _pon farr_ is a load of crap; an easy, convenient excuse to get out of doing work for the mission. You want nothing more…" Kirk paused, looking directly into Spock's eyes, from barely an inch away. "…than to make us feel sorry for you."

That did it. Normally, Spock would have turned around and shut the door on Kirk. Today, his emotional and physical states were weakened to the breaking point. Kirk didn't even see Spock's clenched fist as it rose up and slammed into his eye socket. He was aware, but could do nothing to stop the second one from grabbing his neck, pulling him forward, and readying him for the second shot. Punch after punch ensued, and Kirk was getting nowhere. He managed to get one knee in towards Spock's groin, but he ended up hitting his rigid hip instead, hurting his kneecap in the process.

"Damn." Kirk choked, immediately regretting his course of action. "Sp-aaah-kkk" He hissed. "Stoppp…"

Spock complied with the request, but not in the manner that Kirk had wished. He lifted Kirk off the ground by his uniform, heaved back, and threw Kirk across the hall, where he crumpled up on the doorstep of Chekov's bunk.

"Spock!" Uhura shouted. "What did you do?" She rushed up to the scene, and she looked from Spock, still with an angry, menacing look, to Kirk, who was quiet, barely moving on the gray floor of the residential deck.

"Nyota, I… I'm sorry, but you must go." He said, trying to step back into his quarters.

"Not without an explanation, I'm not." She crossed her arms and raised her eyebrow. Normally, Spock enjoyed her displays, but now, it was an intense source of pleasure. Seeing her powerful posture, somewhat of a fetish for him, drove him wild.

"Kirk… He entered my quarters without permission…" Spock had to search for words. He was being torn apart from inside and out. "He confronted me, and he angered me." He looked over to the bruised, crumpled mess on the floor. "I began to hit him, and then I threw him out of my quarters, Lieutenant. Excuse me." He retreated back into his quarters.

"You… pointy-eared… _bastard_." Kirk spat blood from his mouth, sitting up and leaning against the wall.

"You had it coming, Jim." Uhura said. "In fact, you're lucky I didn't get here first." She crossed her arms.

"I was trying to help. Violence could solve his _pon farr_ problem, and I wanted him to get violent and stop it. Apparently, it didn't." He said, wiping his face with his shirt sleeve.

"Well, then your _'Plan B'_ didn't work." She hissed, squatting down and checking his face. "But my _'Plan C'_ is infallible." She said. "You need to go see McCoy. Go. Now." She offered her hand to help him up.

"Ooh, feisty." Kirk said, taking her hand and standing with her. "You know, I like my women bossing me around." He raised an eyebrow. She rolled her eyes and gave him a gentle push.

When he disappeared down the hall to speak to Bones, she turned and knocked on the door.

"Spock… Please let me in. I need to check on you." She pleaded through the gray barrier. The door opened quickly, allowing her access.

Spock looked up from his meditation, seeing her for the first time. He usually did not like to leer, but in his state of sexual arousal, couldn't possibly look away. He focused on her soft curves, the globular structure of her breasts, confined by the black velvet of the dress. He followed the curves of her body as they slid gracefully down the dress, and emerged in the form of her legs, long and shining, ending in the confines of her sparkling, strappy heels. It was too much for him to bear.

"Please, Nyota." His breath had become ragged, desperation clung to his voice. "I need you to leave me."

"Spock… I've come to be your solution for _pon farr_." She said, leaning close to him. "Because I love you." She kissed him deeply.

"I'm afraid…" He whispered into the kiss. "I won't be able to control myself if you keep doing this." He tried to pull away. "Think of the consequences…"

She reached down and ran her hand along his uniform, sliding her hand up the shirt onto his stomach, feeling the trail of soft hairs. His skin was practically on fire, and she felt as though she, too, would burst into flame.

"Haven't you ever heard of birth control, Mr. Science Officer?" She said, leading his hands to the back of her neck, where the halter had been hooked together, holding her body in the dress.

He raised an eyebrow. "The thought had crossed my mind, but…" He looked directly into her eyes. "I did not think… Nyota, our relationship has been relatively short." He could barely hold himself back, grasping the fabric at each end of the hook and leaning in for a gentle kiss to her neck. Her perfume invaded his senses, and he made a mental note to buy her more of it.

"We've been together for _months._" She dug her fingers lightly into his shoulders, squeezing him, feeling the heat radiating from within his body. She leaned up and licked at the lobe of his ear. "I'm ready for this…" She nibbled at the tip, letting out a warm, breathy laugh, sending shivers down his spine. "…if you are."

Spock looked at her for a moment, taking in the beauty that was Nyota Uhura. Everything about her seemed to scream "illogical" at this moment, but he didn't care. _As Jim might say, 'Screw logic!' or 'Logic Schmogic!'_ Spock thought to himself as he unhooked her dress, sliding the velvety fabric down the length of her body.

He felt no guilt in realizing that he was still fully clothed, while she stood there in nothing but a blue thong. He had thrown everything aside, disarmed by his _pon farr_ cycle, and he allowed the feelings of love and lust to override his brain. He not only allowed, but helped her remove his clothes. He leaned down and started to kiss her, starting at her soft, red lips and running down her dark skin, leaving a trail of kisses on her jaw line, down her neck, allowing himself to feel her moans through his lips.

He kept going, until he reached her breasts, stopping to admire her perfect human anatomy; even with slight imperfections—one nipple just slightly at a higher level than the other, a birthmark just beneath her left breast—he found her to be absolutely, without question, the closest he'd ever seen to true perfection.

She squealed and giggled slightly as he began to nibble ever so softly at one of her nipples. It was something she had not enjoyed from other men; _"They're not chew-toys!" _she had screamed at one of her previous boyfriends before throwing him out.

"Nyota…" He whispered, sated for the moment with her breasts. Lifting her in his arms, he carried her over to his perfectly made bed. "I want… I need… I love you." He climbed over top of her, looking down into her eyes. He began to kiss her again, but then pulled away briefly. "I love you. That's not an effect of _pon farr_, I really love you. I appreciate you, I…"

"Mmm, Spock, I love you, too." She grasped his hands, and placed them at her breasts. She reached up and pulled his face down to hers so their noses rubbed against each other. "But we have a more _pressing_ issue, don't we?" She giggled.

-

--

-

"Bones! Bones!" Kirk shouted, his hand over his swollen eye, trying desperately to stop the swelling. "Need a little assistance, Doc!"

Bones came through the door and was taken aback by the sight. There was a stream of drying blood contrasting brown on the mustard yellow shirt. Kirk's remaining "good" eye retained its vivid blue color, but even more so with the redness surrounding it. The "bad" eye was swollen shut, surrounded by an ever-growing purple-black bruise.

"Why the hell do you keep doing this to yourself?" Bones scanned him and immediately grabbed a replicated ice pack. "Are you some kind of masochist? If so, you oughta go talk to my ex-wife, she'll sure dish it out." He forced the icepack onto Kirk's face, causing the blond man to squirm in pain.

"I tried to stop Spock by getting him into a violent fight." Kirk explained, taking the ice pack from the doctor and gently reapplying it to his eye.

Bones stood back and looked at Kirk as though he had just said that monkeys had come flying from his rear end. "Dammit! Haven't you learned that you don't pick a fight with someone stronger than you, especially when that person is a green-blooded hobgoblin who is more than capable of killing you before you're even aware that he's standing in front of you?"

"Uh… No." Kirk said. "Spock wouldn't kill me. He'd, uh… He'd just mess me up pretty good."

"Not under the cycle of _pon farr_ he wouldn't—the urges get so powerful that Vulcans will let nothing stand in the way. Logic is thrown out the window with control, so he'd kill you without even batting an eye." Bones countered, injecting a drug into Kirk's neck.

"OOWWW… Oh." Kirk said, opening his mouth once again to say something before passing out.

"For a Captain, you sure can be a dumbass sometimes." Bones said, waiting another minute for the injection to course through his body and then another for Kirk to regain consciousness.

"Good morning, sunshine!" Bones said, returning to his work, stitching up a small cut above Kirk's eyebrow.

"I've got to go." Kirk stood up and ran down the hall.

"Come back here!" Bones stood up, but Kirk was already transported to the residence deck.

He heard noises as he walked on down the hall; _'sexy noises, to boot!'_ Kirk thought, walking down the hall. He knew what Uhura's 'Plan C' was now. He added up all the elements of the equation; the low-cut dress and the slutty heels, Spock's desperation, the failed _pon farr_-ending plots of violence and fear, and the simple fact that Spock hadn't had ten minutes in peace to meditate since he got on the ship last week.

As he approached Spock's door, he banged on it loudly. "Get a room, you two!"

The occupants didn't pay any attention to what was going on outside of the room and couldn't care less who was there to interrupt.

_Huh. Not even a 'Shut up, Jim!' Must be really good... Who knew? _He thought, going to his own quarters to clean himself up.

--

-

"And… this only happens **once** every seven years?" Uhura idly traced patterns on Spock's chest, occasionally twirling at his soft chest hair.

"Yes, Nyota. _Pon Farr_ only happens once every seven years, and with it comes the agitation, aggression, and emotions that I've been suffering from for the past several days." He said, stroking at the thoroughly messed up hair.

'_Damn.'_ She thought to herself, yawning and closing her eyes, kissing at his shoulder to bid him good night.

'_Damn.'_ Spock thought. He hoped he wouldn't have to wait another seven years to repeat this night.

**Author's notes:**

I think I'm finished. I don't want to drag this out for too long. I apologize for the lack of sex (for those who were hoping for it), but I didn't want to get obnoxiously graphic with this, just enough to get the point across, I suppose. I hope you enjoyed it, and I do appreciate the reviews! Thanks!

Oh, and there wasn't any slash (well, perhaps implied at one point or two) but I think my next story will be Kirk/Spock slash...


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